Ramadhan and another year

Apart from birthdays, Ramadhan always signify the passing of another year to me. In the past 23 years, I've celebrated Ramadhan in three countries (Jordan, Malaysia, and Australia), five states (Terengganu, Kelantan, Pahang, Irbid, and New South Wales), and countless homes and houses and residencies.

It marks the celebration of new people in my life, and the departure of dear ones. I lost my dear calico Tompok during Ramadhan, she waited a week for me to come home from college. I welcomed my second niece a couple of days after the celebration of the month three years ago. I remember outstaying my visit to Terengganu, paying dues to friends and friends of friends with my brother. Last year, I celebrated Ramadhan by going to class - feeling nothing but empowered with the new things I learned about media and advocacy.

Strangely enough, Ramadhan in Sydney never feel so out of place. Perhaps because religion has always been a private matter to me, and in between waking up to the quiet morning and breaking my fast and praying in the evening, I don't feel the need to remove myself from the surroundings which are completely oblivious to the presence of Ramadhan. On the contrary, such differences often offers me a clarity of mind, an opportunity to return to myself at the end of the day and engage in conversation with God and the universe about what I'd like to see in the world in my lifetime.

These days, when I break my fast - sometimes in the class with Tim Tam in hand, sometimes at home with a cup of coffee and a plate of scones, sometimes in a cafe with much longed for cappuccino - I look back at my past Ramadhan, strewn with tales and stories of families, friends, and dear ones. I also wonder at the future, who and how and where am I going to share my Ramadhan with next.

If there is anything I learn about this month, perhaps I'd agree with how spiritual and sacred and special Ramadhan can be; because somehow throughout my lifetime and especially so as I grow older, in presence of dear ones or without them - I never feel alone in Ramadhan.